


Pick a star on the dark horizon

by kasiopeia



Series: Growing strong [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Darcy Lewis-centric, F/M, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, Secret Identity, secret backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2526590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasiopeia/pseuds/kasiopeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy knows enough math to get by, but not enough to keep up with Jane. She knows how to build the perfect playlist for any occasion. She knows swearwords in fifteen different languages. But she also knows the thick, wet slide of a knife reaching it's target. She knows the sound of a gun going off. She knows what it's like to have blood on her hands, and it's not a feeling she wants back.</p>
<p>So when a storm isn't coming anymore, when the storm is upon them and a man is screaming things that doesn't make sense, she does what she does best: she protects herself, she lashes out and she doesn't let another man frighten her ever again. She is not about to let one crazed man ruin the life she had build herself, the life she had fought so hard to get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Started pre Thor: The Dark World, so this doesn't incorporate that movie. Title from 'The Call' by Regina Spector
> 
> Slight trigger warning for claustrophobia. I built Darcy's claustrophobia on my own personal experiences. Obviously everyone experiences this differently, and I am not claiming to have the only right 'version' of the phobia.

When Darcy was five, she went with her dad to the roof of their house where they sat up his telescope. They stayed up far to late while he named stars and constellations, and she asked question after question. In the end she had fallen asleep in the folding chair, with a blanket tucked around her and woke up in her own bed the next morning without knowing how she got there.

It's the best night of her life.

 

 

 

Darcy knows enough math to get by, but not enough to keep up with Jane. She knows how to build the perfect playlist for any occasion. She knows swearwords in fifteen different languages. She knows a lot, Darcy Lewis. But she also knows the thick, wet slide of a knife reaching it's target. She knows the sound of a gun going off. She knows what it's like to have blood on her hands, and it's not a feeling she wants back.

The Darcy Lewis she has built and cultivated during four years at Culver is unassuming, chatty, harmless and quite frankly a little bit stupid. Darcy is good at a lot of things, but not all of them fit in with the person she needs to be; the bubbly student who no one looks at twice. Because most of all she is good at pretending, she is good at compartmentalizing and hiding away what she isn't proud of, and that she doesn't want. 

She is good at surviving. 

So when a storm isn't coming anymore, when the storm is upon them and a man is screaming things that doesn't make sense, she does what she does best: she protects herself, she lashes out and she doesn't let another man frighten her ever again. She is not about to let one crazed man ruin the life she had build herself, the life she has fought so hard to get.

 

 

 

 

The first time she meets Phil Coulson she is afraid. He takes stock of a room and everything in it just like her, she knows he can see what's not there, and she is fucking terrified that he will see through her. She won't ever go back to what she was, and this man reminds her too much of things she would rather forget.

She covers it up with bravado, curses and a flippant nature she has cultivated. And she can see him dismissing her, she can see it working and she knows she's fooled him.

When she meets him again, she knows she was wrong; she never fooled him at all.

 

 

 

The room around her is stark white, a reflective window on one side that she doesn't take her eyes off of. Other rooms flit behind her eyelids, all different, but with one common denominator: they make her feel trapped, they all bring that tight claustrophobic panic in her chest that will never go away and the fear of armed men coming in the door with their promises of pain and a limited freedom in exchange for what they want. It is a freedom that is never really free, but the offer is always one she can't refuse.

This room is no different, its clean white surface just covering over the underlying threat. The unassuming man that steps through the door is the same, his suit may hide his weapons, and his smile may hide his threat, but he is still a man with hold over her, someone who might hit her just to hurt her. Darcy doesn't trust a smile anymore, she doesn't trust a promise. What she does trust are actions, time and herself. She knows what lurks in the heart of men and she will not fall for their charms again.

She fights to keep the panic at bay, the blood rushing in her veins seem to want to burst out of her and she builds her walls up for the inevitable hit as she tries to match Agent Coulson's bland face. 

"Miss Lewis, I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse." He says, and the walls comes crashing down.

 

 

 

Two weeks ago in that white room, she had asked him why. And he had answered in the same even voice _Because I think it's time for you to use the abilities you posses for something good_. She still doesn't know if that's something she can do with SHIELD, or at all. But she keeps her head down, puts on her cultivated masks, for all she knows this is just another gang, another army, making her do something she doesn't want.

But she thinks that she would be willing to do _this_ , to work here if the exchange rate is a sense of purpose that she has sorely missed. 

 

 

 

Shield is better and worse than her old new life. It's infinitely better than her old old life. No one hurts her just to hurt her, no one asks her to kill anyone (at least not yet) and there is always enough food. Her days follows the same pattern, waking up in a one room apartment in Queens. Subway to work early to avoid the huge masses, always careful so she doesn't get caught in a situation where she might get hit with a panic attack. Then there's morning training, intelligence gathering, lunch, shooting range and lectures to sit through before taking the subway home again. The training is easy enough, but she plays at being worse than she is and letting herself slowly improve as weeks bleed into months. The instructors approve of her, but she is not anyone's favorite. 

Darcy Lewis is in the middle of the pack, just as she likes it. She learned the hard way never to stand out. She's not like the Black Widow or Maria Hill, playing on fear and intimidation to keep people at bay. She uses her own tactics, just as effective. She puts on her old open and flippant self, laces it with enough of her own steel to work in SHIELD and invites people in by jokes and smiles. She makes everyone underestimate her. Nobody notices how she never reveals anything important about herself, and that she learns a lot about them.

She has nightmares, but then she always has, and there seems to be less of them after joining Shield. Maybe it's the fact that she is more tired now when going to bed than she is used to, or maybe it's the training and the way she feels slightly more n control of her life now. She doesn't quite know, but she will take it for what it is: a blessing. 

When they have simulation training, she begs out, she tells them that she doesn't go in because of light claustrophobia; she laughs as she says it like it's no big deal. But what they don't understand is that claustrophobia isn't the fear of the small spaces themselves, it's the fear of being trapped, of never feeling the freedom of an open space again. It's the closest name of the fear that spreads through her body until her knees buckle, her chest constricts and her vision swims of possibilities of how the situation can go out of her control. She craves the control of her own life more than anything, she wants the security she must have once had, but that she no longer remember. Darcy has an constant anger burning under her skin, stretching her tight and holding her in place. She has seen too much, knows to much to go back, to just let _go_. And she's not sure she wants to.

 

 

 

The mornings after a nightmare Darcy would go on a run. The sun was just peaking it's top over the horizon and the city was quiet around her. The shadows were long and where she could, she avoided the smaller alleys, sticking to the wide streets and parks that were normally crowded, basking in the early morning sun and the freedom of movement. She let the cold sweats from her short night blend in with the honest sweat of a workout. She always left her iPod behind and instead she focused on the sound of her feet hitting the ground, working on matching her rhythm to the erratic beating of her heart until they both evened out.

On her way back the morning commuters would join her, blearily making their way to subways and buses, with the same dead look in their eyes and firm grips on coffee's or newspapers. 

After a quick shower she would join them, and the day would begin anew.

(There would always be a fresh cup of coffee in her locker those mornings)

 

 

 

 

"Agent Romanov will observe our training session today." Agent Banks normal calm is disturbed today, Darcy can see that his hands are slightly white, like he wants to clench them and that he has slight tremors around his eyes. The woman standing with a straight back next to him must know as well, because she doesn't dignify him with a single look.

Darcy wants to hate this woman with her perfect bland expression and flaming red hair, wants to hate her like she once did. She is the reason that Darcy is the person she is, she is the reason for everything she went through. But looking at her now: a real person, not a concept in her mind, she doesn't think she can. The Black Widow is the perfect outcome of the Red Room, a weapon of mass destruction that served as an inspiration for Hydra, for men with grand idea's, but without scruples. Natasha Romanov isn't any of those things. She is a woman who, just like Darcy, is a survivor. 

Agent Romanov stands to one side and observes the whole session without showing a single emotion on her face. Darcy can see the others try not to look at the woman watching them, but most of them fails. Darcy doesn't, and later she'll realize that's her first mistake. She should have played it like the rest, not stood out in any way. After tirty minutes Agent Romanov takes a step forward.

"Stand on a line, everybody close their eyes. Do not open your eyes until I tap your shoulder." Her voice is not loud, but it seems to ring inside Darcy's head. She closes her eyes, takes a breath and listens to the darkness. She filters out the sounds of feet shuffling and the breathing of those around her, confident that Agent Romanov is not the one making them. It's been 9 minutes when she _knows_ something is happening, and training takes over. 

Incoming hit. Brace yourself. Impact. React:

"You hit me!" Darcy takes a step back while putting her hands up to her throbbing nose. 

"You should have blocked it." 

"I had my eyes closed! I didn't know it was coming." The others are starting to turn and look at them now, even a few with their eyes still close are shuffling their feet. 

"Lie." Agent Romanov's voice is cold and Darcy can feel her old fears creeping up her back. But Darcy can't stop now, she _can't_ , she's come to far, and now it's sink or swim. 

"You didn't hit anyone else." 

"With everyone else I stopped right before I hit them. None of them knew it was coming. You did. But instead of defending yourself you let yourself be hit." Then Agent Romanov's fist is moving towards her again, and it _hurts_ , it's hurts so fucking much that Darcy knows that she held back the first time. 

"I want you to defend yourself." Her voice is still cold, impassionate. 

And Darcy, Darcy can feel the fear bleeding into anger, gaining momentum from the hate she thought she'd let go of. And when the fist comes flying again, she fights back. The fight isn't long, but Darcy knows she holds her own for a while, even gets in a few shots. She isn't deluded enough to think that they are anything but lucky, but for now it's something. It ends with Darcy lying on her back, looking up into Agent Romanov's calculating eyes. And somehow that is what gets to her most, the fact that the woman above her is currently reading _her_ , is trying to find a use of Darcy, Darcy who has promised herself that she will never be used again. 

And it's this look that makes her say it: "This is your fault." She wants to say that she doesn't recognize the hissing, dark sound that is her voice, but she is also done lying to herself. Some emotion seems to play out behind Agent Romanov's eyes, but Darcy might be imagining it. 

"Clear the room." she barks, and Darcy can hear the sounds of feet on the floor, a muttered comment that is being cut off from Agent Banks, the door closing and finally silence. Agent Romanov rolls off her and to her feet in one motion, but Darcy stays down. Her anger is starting to disappear, leaving behind a bone deep weariness. Agent Romanov sits down with her back to the wall, all the time looking at her. 

"I've turned off all surveillance in this room. It's just you and me. Talk."

Darcy turns up and looks at the ceiling, she thinks that she shouldn't trust Natasha Romanov, but that she does. She thinks about all the things she's never told anyone, but that she wishes she could. And she thinks that this might be the only person who would actually understand. So she starts talking.

"I was seven when I was taken, kidnapped, whatever you want to call it." 

The story is this: Darcy was seven the last time she saw her parents. Back then her name wasn't Darcy Lewis, that is not her real name. But it is a name and it's _hers_ now. But she was seven, she didn't know about Darcy Lewis and she was with her parents at the mall doing some last minute shopping before their summer holiday's. The mall was stiflingly hot, and Darcy just wanted some air. Her dad was busy with a salesman, so she figured she could just go outside for a few minutes, no harm done, right? 

She stupidly remembers the blinking lights in the shop window and her new flowery shoes that she was so proud of. She remembers the wonderful summer air hitting her when she steps out and then there is only darkness and pain.

She doesn't tell Natasha Romanov about all that. But she talks about everything that comes later. She talks about Hydra, about the stark rooms they kept her in. She talks about pain and longing and the impossible tasks, tests and missions. She talks about the recreation of the red room, and about the men that runs it. 

She doesn't talk about the other girls. She doesn't talk about how many of them died and she doesn't talk about the ones that were her fault. 

And then she is silent. 

"And then what?" Agent Romanov's voice is quiet. And in a way she's not the person she was when Darcy started speaking. Darcy's story has changed something between them. She is the first person Darcy has told all of this to, and she feels lighter, but also like she has just run a marathon. She closes her eyes.

"I fought back. I escaped."

The truth is something she is immensely less proud off. And however much she tries to reason about her own survival, she still remembers the sounds of his neck snapping and the way the trusting look never left his eyes. But she became Darcy Lewis in that moment and left her old self behind with a broken man in a broken room. And she can't regret that.

 

 

 

Natasha is a constant presence after that. Darcy can't quite decide if it's because she likes her, or if it's one of those 'keep your enemies closer' things. But she finds it doesn't matter. Natasha, in all her scary glory, is the only person Darcy has told about her past, and that means something more than she can put words to. 

Besides, if Natasha wants her dead she has the power to do so at any time, she doesn't need to be close. 

 

 

 

Natasha and Darcy is having lunch when a man with what is some truly impressive arms drops down in the seat next to Natasha. Not that Darcy notices of course, because the very next thing she sees is that the man is clearly Natasha's. They have a shared intimacy that isn't obvious, but is there to the trained eye.

"What are you girls talking about then? How to get them boys?" He says and Darcy snorts and puts on her best sarcastic voice.

"Oh yes. They are so difficult to get, so we need to do extencive plan."

"Wouldn't think you would have much trouble with that." He leers at her boobs. 

"Don't think I won't kill you." 

At which point he grinned, wide and boyish. "I like her," he says turning to Natasha. "You can keep her." 

"I think I will" she says and Darcy knows she means it. That she is Natasha's now, just as the man next to her is. And she likes the warmth that spreads in her chest at the thought of being someone's because they like her, not because they want to own her. 

"This is Clint Barton. And yes, he is always like that, and it's always annoying." 

"Aw come on. I'm lovable and cute." Barton says and steals some food of her plate.

"That is ridiculous on so many levels." Natasha answers, but Barton just steals some more food and winks at Darcy. 

 

 

 

Coulson is often around, watching the recruits.

"Why is he always watching?" She asks Natasha one day, after a grueling training that Coulson caught the embarrassing end of. 

"Director Nick Fury has always been good at the big picture; grand plans and grandiose statements. He is not good at human relations, that's why he has Coulson. Phil says it pays off keeping an eye on the recruits, that way he knows everyone's strengths and weaknesses and can give the director the right advise. He was my handler."

Darcy has never heard Natasha speak for that long about anything other than training and isn't surprised when she leaves abruptly a moment later. 

 

 

 

She's made a full Agent soon after. She thinks Natasha had something to do with it, but the other woman is not telling and she can't be sure. She also jumps straight to a level 4, which is more surprising. The day starts out normal enough: jog in the park, the commute from her apartment to Shield headquarters, but when she enters the building she gets called over to reception. 

"You have a meeting on the eleventh floor Lewis." The receptionist says without a glance at her. "If you need it I recommend you use the toilet before you go up. People have been known to regret not too." Darcy frowns at her, but when no other information is forthcoming she turns and heads for the elevators. Eleventh floor? She's never even been that far up, always keeping to the lower underground levels. She can't think of anything she's done that would require her to go that far up. There is a small coil of dread in her stomach that whispers that they know, that they want to use her, abuse her and break her down again. But she shuts it down. She's stronger now that she ever was, and she can face whatever is coming for her.

She walks out of the elevator with her head held high and her face impassive. Which is a good thing, because it turns out that the eleventh floor is basically just Director Fury's office and that the meeting she has is with the big guy himself. 

It's a short meeting, Fury does most of the talking and she feels shell shocked when she comes back out again. The only thing she can remember clearly is "Level 4", Don't fuck it up" and with a surprising clarity: "You don't show up on Coulson's radar unless you have the potential to be extraordinary. Make sure you don't fucking squander that potential or the resources Shield put into you."

But apparently she manages to keep her emotions from showing because the woman that comes towards her smiles.

"Well done, Agent Lewis. Most people are white as a sheet and feel the need to trow up after that."

"How do you know I don't?" Darcy smiles.

"You haven't yet, so I'm taking that as a good sign." The Agent holds out a hand. "I'm Agent Santos, from human resources, I'll help you through the important part of becoming an agent; the paperwork." 

"Nice to meet you." Darcy says, and she means it. Agent Santos seems a bit more relaxed around the edges than the agents she's been meeting during field training. Santos then proceeds to take her through three hours worth of paperwork and introductions, which leaves her dizzy. Then she leaves Darcy with the advise to sleep some extra, because it's not going to be too much of it going forward, and a brand new badge and access card.

Darcy looks down at the actual, real, shining shield in her hand and hopes it will be big enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Her first mission goes to hell. To put it mildly. 

It's supposed to be a simple extraction, some merchandise Shield wants and some goons guarding it. It's supposed to be an easy two person operation, she's paired with an level 6 agent with a blank face who doesn't say anything to her unless it's absolutely necessary. Honestly Darcy is fine with that, she doesn't feel like chatting him up anyway, and she slips easily into the Shield Agent persona she's crafted for herself; slightly nervous, but competent. 

Everything goes fine until they are in the warehouse that the merchandise is in, where there are more guards than expected, and they are far more skilled than the briefing had said. They go in together, Darcy going left and Agent Johnson going right according to plan. They are good fighters, but she are better, letting herself fall into familiar rhythms, with some added Natasha in the mix. They are almost all down when one sneaks up on her and gets in a good hit. It was one of the ones she had assumed Johnson would take care of, but when the man is on the ground and she looks around he is gone. She moves carefully forward and gives a status report. 

"Guards down. Johnson is missing."

Her com crackles a bit, before Agent Gregory replies. "Don't worry about Agent Johnson. He's on mission. Be advised, more guards might be coming your way." 

The last part is true, and she spends a lot of time cursing her handler and Johnson respectively. She can take the guards, that's not the problem, but she doesn't appreciate being left in the dark, when the price to pay might be her life. What if that first man had done more than hit her? She takes her anger out on the guards, and is ready to explode by the time she has what they came for and is being ordered back to their van. Johnson is already there, and he must see by the look on her face that she is beyond pissed, as he holds his hands up in surrender at once and says "Just following my orders."

"You could have warned me." she hisses out.

"It's against protocol." he says and they spend the rest of the ride in silence.

By the time they are in the debrief she has calmed down a bit, but only enough for her anger to turn from burning hot to ice cold. She keeps her opinions to herself, but in her head she is already planning how to leave Shield without repercussions. She should have known already that it was not for her, there are too many times in her past where she has been used without a thought, and she is done being that person. If they are that ready to sacrifice her then they can't mind her leaving. 

Through the debrief Coulson is watching her, but she doesn't look his way until the end, meaning to glare at him, but all she can muster is disappointment. She is not sure if it's in herself for thinking she might trust him, or for him giving her the chance to. 

"What do you need to stay?" he asks after and the words stop her in her tracks, she hadn't realized he had known her intentions. She looks at him, completely at a loss of what to say, and then she just leaves him standing there looking after her. 

Later, after a shower, when her icy anger has turned to confusion over the look in Coulson's eyes and with his question repeating itself in her mind, Clint finds her.

"Darcy! Come with me!" he says passing her and not slowing down.

"Always so bossy Barton." she shoots after him, but she follows him anyway. 

He leads her to the roof where there are three chairs in a half circle. Clint sits down and fishes two bottles of beer up from a cooler next to him. He gestures at one of the other chairs, and Darcy smiles at him and accepts the beer and the seat. She knows her smile is tired and after taking a gulp of the beer she doesn't even try to put it back on. The anger that kept her going so far is evaporated and she just feels sad and tired. 

"So, Agent Gregory is an asshole." Clint says. 

She does smile at that, lifting her bottle in agreement, but doesn't say anything. She can feel him watching her, he seems to be waiting for her to speak, but she is willing to bet she can play that game longer than him. Turns out she's right when he sights and says: "Look Darce, Shield isn't perfect, no one on the planet is going to try to claim that. But in general the people here are good people. And I think you could do some good here, if you would only stop running." 

She still doesn't say anything, just closes her eyes and leans back. There are too may thoughts fighting for room in her brain, and if she opens her mouth she is afraid the wrong one will slip out. 

"When I was a kid I ran away to join the circus." Clint says. "My brother and me, we, well, lets say we didn't have the best childhood, and the circus seemed the better option. In a lot of ways it was, I became the main act with my bow and arrow, but when things got rough again I ran. Like always. I did things I'm not proud of." She can feel his eyes on her. "But I found a life here and I think you can too."

They are both silent after that, and she is glad Clint lets her have this silence that she clearly needs. After a while Natasha joins them, draping herself elegantly over the last chair while fishing out a beer for herself. They watch the sun set over the city. Darcy tries to figure out what she really wants under all the emotions of the last few months. And what she finds is that she doesn't want to leave shield, she doesn't want to start over again. She doesn't want to run this time. And she thinks she knows the answer to Coulson's question. 

 

 

 

 

By the time she slips into Coulson's office it is dark outside, she's left Natasha and Clint behind and this is her last stop of the day. Coulson is by his desk, his desk lamp lit, but the rest of the room is masked in shadows. She feels comfortable like this, her in the shadows and him in the light, and she wonders briefly if he planned it this way.

"To stay I need to know if the person beside me is a friend or a foe. If I am to go to war for Shield I need to know who my people are. And if that's not you tell me now, because I need to know." it's the closest to the truth she can come, and she knows that a lot hinges on his answer. 

"I'm yours." his voice is softer than she is used to, and after holding his gaze for a moment she gives a slight nod and leaves his office as quietly as she entered it. She goes home to her apartment, and the next morning she walks into Shield, head held high and right on time, knowing that it might not work out, but that she wants to fight for this life, not give up and not run away.

 

 

 

She finds herself settling into life at Shield. She has her apartment, she has training, work, sessions and drinks with Tasha, laughs with Clint during lunch, beers on the roof and silence when needed. Most people still side-eyes her for climbing the ranks so quickly, they are upset about the missions she gets and the rumor mill comes up with all kind of stories as to why she is really there. None of them are close to the truth, but it also doesn't matter, Darcy doesn't really care what people think of her unless their thoughts threaten her safety. And she continues to prove herself and her worth on missions, and the agents that go out with her learns to value her tactical input and her efficient work. They rarely question her after, and she's okay with this balance, to her actions speaks louder than words, she no longer hold any faith in words of others because she knows how easy they are to manipulate. Only time will prove their worth. 

(Coulson's words ring in her ears, the _I'm yours_ knocking around in her head, and she needs time, she needs _something_ ).

Coulson, always Coulson, watching training sessions, in her ear during assignments and challenging her during debriefs. He always helps her to be better even if she sometimes sees red in the face of his collected calm. She doesn't know how he gets under her skin, how after so many years of not really _caring_ she suddenly does. It feels disconcerting and strange. Being around people again, letting herself care, is new and terrifying. She wants to close off again, to build up her walls and get the safe, stable feeling back. But she is realizing that the security she feels is nothing but loneliness. She's gotten so used to thinking about it as protection, that the fact that she is alone is a good thing. She has dug a hole in the ground and carefully settled herself at the bottom. It's no use blaming the people who gave her the shovel when _she_ is the only one who can climb out again.

She's got friends that she cares about now, and she likes the feeling it gives her. They still don't know everything about her of course, but then she knows they have secrets of their own. She still believes that secrets are currency, but she is starting to realize how others might look at them; not to be bartered, but to be given away freely.

 

 

 

 

Not all days are good. She gets a panic attack one afternoon during training, she can feel it coming and she excuses herself just in time, ducking into the staircase where hopefully no one will find her. Sliding down the wall by the stairs, she takes shallow breaths as she presses her head between her knees and closes her eyes. There are tiny points of light dancing behind her eyelids and an erratic beat playing in her chest. 

She has to get up, she has to get moving. She can't stay here, can't afford to be found. She has to pull herself together. Now. Now. Now. Just count to three. Now. Now. Now. Count to three. Now!

Then someone is beside her, sliding down to sit next to her, but keeping a careful distance. 

"Come on." Coulson says, his voice kind and slow, he slowly places his hand under her elbow and guides her to her feet. He leads them towards the stairs and she can't think of a reason not to go. She focuses on counting the steps they climb to control her breathing. The go all the way up to the roof, and settles into the chairs. From the roof she can see the stars, the city lights make them weaker, but she can still pick out constellations. She can feel her breath slowing down and her heartbeat return to normal. Coulson sits still next to her, and he is a calming presence.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks.

"My father." Slips out of her, even if she had meant to say the stars. And once she has said the words, she finds that they are true. She isn't thinking about the stars anymore, it's her father's voice she hears in her head telling her about the universe. She can no longer remember his face, and it hurts. 

"He had a telescope up on the roof of our house and showed me the stars." she continues, "The universe is endless, and I like the idea of that." After that they are both silent, and she likes the way he makes the silence feels, not like something that needs to be filled, fought over or extracted from, but something that they can share together. 

 

 

 

(She doesn't know when she started trusting Coulson, really trusting him, not just playing along until she figured Shield out. It was after "I'm yours", but before she told him about her father on the roof. She doesn't think it matters, but she knows it should.)

 

 

 

"You changed after you joined Shield." Jane accuses over one of their 'get drunk and absolutely no talking about Gods of any kind' get together's. 

"I really didn't." Darcy says, and as she says it she knows it's true. She hasn't changed, not really, she's only let more of her show. And isn't that a scary thought? The lines has started blurring, she no longer knows where Darcy Lewis stops and where the old her starts. How much is her from Before, how much is her from During and how much is just Darcy? She was starting to mix up all that she had tried so hard to keep separate. But as she's looking at Jane, who is far into her fifth drink and has broken the rule about talking about Gods, she thinks that no, it was all mixed up long ago. 

After all, the reason she took the internship with Jane is because she wanted to look at the stars again, and Darcy Lewis didn't have any memories about stars. All she knows is from long ago, from a time when she had felt safe looking up at the sky, from hearing her father's voice explaining the world to her and letting the stars fill her vision.

 

 

 

 

She's sitting in the chair across from Coulson, and his expression doesn't give anything away. She is reminded of the first time she met him and how scared he had made her. There is something closed off about him, that she thought they were past at this point. 

"I see you've been getting close to Agent Barton." he says.

"Yes?" Darcy drags the word out, she is still not sure what this is about.

"Is there an emotional connection?" 

And she sees red, just for a moment before it settles into a icy fury that would make Natasha proud. 

"Yes." She says icily, and some emotion flits across Coulson's face, but she is not in any state to try reading it. She stands up, slow and deliberate, "there is an emotional connection, because we are friends, and if I were a man you wouldn't question that." She turns on her heel before he has a chance to respond, stalks out of the room and takes the elevator down to the gym. She needs to hit something.

It's an hour later that Natasha finds her there. Darcy is sweaty, her fists feel raw, but she is still mad, still feels like hitting something, like her control is slipping away and her own anger is taking over control. She doesn't stop until Natasha's voice reaches her.

"He's an idiot." 

"Yes." Darcy says and gives the bag a hit that sends it swinging.

"But then again, so are you." Natasha says, her voice still unbearably calm. 

Darcy stops the bag with her forehead, leans towards it and breathes heavily. "How so?" She forces out. 

"Because you won't let yourself feel anything." 

"I feel something now." Darcy says with a wry laugh.

"And that scares you. It scares you to feel something, so you let your anger lead you, so you don't have to feel anything else. And that is stupid. I get that you are scared, but to let that fear control you, that is stupid."

Darcy can feel her anger deflating, because Natasha is right dammit. She lets go of the bag, and sinks down to the floor.

"But what if I can't do it Natasha?" She finally looks at the other woman. "What if I'm not strong enough, what if I get hurt again?" 

"You are an idiot if you think you're not strong enough. It's him that should be afraid."

Darcy smiles up at her, she knows it's a tired smile, but at least it's real. "How many times are you going to call me stupid?"

"As many times as it takes." Natasha sits down next to her. "I won't ever be the comforting one, I'm not good at 'girl talk'." She says, and Darcy can hear the air quotes even if Natasha doesn't do them. "But you like him, I can see that. And you both deserve something good, so you shouldn't let yourself get in the way of that. Now, go and take a shower, you stink."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Darcy gets up with a smile and a lazy salute. "Thank you Natasha, you are better at this than you think." 

After her shower she goes up on the roof and waits. It's his turn to come to her, he was in the wrong and she deserves an apology before anything else happens. And yes, maybe Natasha is right, she does like Phil Coulson, and more important, she trusts him and that is something she doesn't do easily. She doesn't know how he feels, but she's not going to let that worry her, no matter how it turns out this is something that is _hers_ and hers alone. One emotion that is good and that comes entirely from _her_ , not from anyone who thinks they made her. 

She hears him enter, but doesn't turn around. It's grown dark, and the ever comforting stars are blinking overhead. 

"I'm sorry." He says softly. "It was not my place to question your personal relationships. I realize that, even before someone called me a stupid idiot for it."

"Yeah, someone said something similar to me." Darcy says and faces him. 

He gives her a wry smile, before it drops again. "The truth is," he takes a deep breath, "the truth is that I wouldn't question it if it was anyone other than you." 

Darcy stares at him, willing him to continue, wanting him to say the words that will still her nervous heartbeat. 

"The truth is that you have managed to creep under my skin when I wasn't paying attention." His eyes search her face. "And I would like to, that is to say, I want," she takes a step closer, and his eyes drop down to her mouth, "I want," he whispers and she closes the distance and kisses him. His lips are soft beneath hers and tastes like coffee, cinnamon and just Phil. She puts a hand at his side and draws him closer, feels his lips moving against hers and when he runs his tongue across her bottom lip she gives a small appreciative sound and breaks away. Resting her forehead against his, she smiles and lets her hand slip around to the small of his back. He is smiling as well, his eyes twinkling slightly in the starlight.

"I'm yours too." she says, her voice a whisper only for him.

"And I'm yours." His hand ghosts over her cheek. 

"But lets keep this new development secret." His voice is soft, and she doesn't think she's ever heard his voice this unguarded. She thinks that she wants to hear that again, she thinks that there is something so private about it and that she likes he's sharing it with her. She thinks that she doesn't want to share this with anyone. She doesn't say any of this, just a simple "Yes."

His hand finds hers and holds it loosely. "It's not because I want to keep you a secret, but this is private, and..."

She smiles and kisses him again, which seems to be answer enough.

 

 

Purely because they decided not to share the news, Tasha knows within the hour. She claims she would have known sooner if they would have just left the roof earlier. It takes Clint three weeks, and when he finally figures it out Darcy has to hit him to make him stay quiet, and not sharing it with the whole cafeteria. 

Apparently keeping secrets in a secret spy organization is difficult. Go figure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! But thank you for all the support while you were waiting! This chapter moves through the Avengers movie, it's been a while since I watched it, so I hope I got it right.

They take it slow, because this is not something Darcy is sure about, it's not something she knows how to navigate. She feels like she knows Phil now, she can read his facial expressions (or lack thereof), she feels comfortable around him, which is novel. She knows him, she just doesn't know herself very well. She doesn't know how to make a relationship work, how to be anything other than who she is; prickly, sharp and all edges. When she tells him this he laughs and tells her he has only ever wanted her as she is. 

So she learns to relax around him, to not be afraid of upsetting the balance they have now. She learns that she can touch him when she wants to, not when anyone else wants her too. She learns that it's not physical closeness she's afraid of, it's the feelings behind it, it's the emotion bubbling under the surface. Sex was never a problem for Darcy before, it was a part of training, a part of who they wanted her to be, a tool to be used and to leave behind when done with. She thinks differently about it now, which is why she delays it, nervous of what will happen if he gets to close, if she lets him see _her_. 

(When they do have sex it's not perfect. She is brittle and sharp, and he is too careful. But after, he holds out a hand to her and draws her close, and while listening to his heartbeat she is happy. And that is something new, it's something amazing in it's simplicity and she wants to keep it.)

 

 

Stopping in front of Beatrice desk, Darcy smiles a little. Phil's assistant is concentrated on her screen, tapping away on her keyboard, shoulders hunched and she doesn't look up when she speaks.

"He's in a meeting." 

"That's fine. I brought coffee." Darcy made the coffee tray in her hands dance. As Darcy knew it would it makes Beatrice look up.

"Gimme." she said, making grabby motions with her hands. Darcy handled over the coffee and sat down in the extra chair. After taking a huge sip of coffee Beatrice looked at Darcy.

"You are a goddess on earth, which I would think was impossible, but I've met Thor." Darcy raised her own cup in acknowledgement. "But I still can't let you in. He's in a meeting with the Director."

"Still fine Bee. How are you?" They spend a few minutes catching up, Beatrice is not one of the few people Darcy consider friends, but she is one of the constants in her life now, and Darcy learned from a young age that earning someone's trust can help you out later. Besides she knows how much the other woman works, she likes that her smile is unguarded and the steel that comes out when she needs to guard Phil's door. Then the office door opens and Fury comes out, Phil one step behind.

"Distracting Beatrice again Agent Lewis?" Phil says with one of his non-smiles.

"I'm pretty sure it's in my job description Bossman." She holds up the two remaining coffee's. "I also brought coffee." she says with a sunny smile. 

While Phil takes his triple shot espresso happily, Fury just stares at his with an air of suspicion. 

"Come on sir. I didn't poison it." 

"I don't know if I find it comforting or not that you would even say that to me Agent Lewis." he said with a grumble, but he also takes the drink so Darcy counts it as a victory. He takes a sip of it and raises his eyebrows at her, Darcy just smiles her most innocent smile, even if she knows his favorite mocha with extra cream must have taken him by surprise. 

Or maybe not as he only takes another sip from it, claps Phil on the shoulder and leaves with a smirk and the comment "You deserve each other." 

"You told him?" she demands when the door is closed behind them. 

"No." Phil says, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "But after all he is the leader of a spy organization, he was bound to find out at some point."

 

 

 

 

Darcy likes Deputy Director Hill, she does. She is a good leader, a great tactician and a good person to have on your side. But she also has the ability to be quite cutting and cruel. Darcy thinks that she is a woman who has had to fight for everything she has, who's turned cold and hard out of necessity, not necessarily a wish to be that way. And, well, Darcy can relate to that, can't she?

But still she is surprised when after a long mission, a not long enough shower and when all Darcy can think about is her own bed, Hill slides up to her and tells her they are going out.

She stammers out a reply and ends up just watching Hill's back as she walks away, slinging a "See you in the lobby in 30 minutes." over her shoulder like this is something that happens every day. Luckily when she gets to the lobby it's to see Tasha standing there smiling at her, Hill right behind. 

It turns out to be fun, Darcy has never really been out on a girls night like this, where she doesn't have to be anything other than what she is. Hill (Maria after two drinks and a story involving a goat and two arms dealers) turns out to be a lot less intimidating outside of Shield. Or maybe it's just the drinks and the company, because Maria manages to be intimidating enough when two guys try to feel her up at the bar. It doesn't turn into a bar fight, but it's a close thing. The bartender is clearly on the verge of throwing them out when Natasha appears at his elbow and whispers something in his ear. Darcy will never know what it was, but they get to stay, so she's definitely counting it as a win. 

What she is also counting as a win is Maria's friendship. Darcy has a group of friends now, it's small, but it is more than she ever thought she would have. She used to think that being close to someone meant being used. But maybe now she figures that it's okay to be used, as long as you are aware of it. That being used isn't bad as long as you are getting something in return. That this world is, and will always be, built on people using each other.

 

 

 

 

They dig Captain America up from the ice and Phil is so giddy with excitement that he doesn't even try to control it when it's just the two of them. And if a stray thought about the stories Hydra told her crosses her mind, Darcy doesn't let on. She is far to happy to let Phil have this, because this right here is why she likes him, why she think that if she was a person that was capable of love, this was the person she would choose; he is a real person, not someone formed from a secret identity, but someone who chose it out of a desire to do good.

They stay up all night, and he tells her about the small boy who got dressed up as Captain America for Halloween, about the young man who wanted to save the world with truth, justice, freedom and the American Way, about the grown up who see the world differently now, but who still wants to save it. 

And she tells him about her dad, about stargazing and warm hugs. She tells him she can no longer remember his face, and she cries a bit. She tells him about the world that she sees now, compared to how she thought the world was before. She talks about how she's realized that the life she thought she's built herself as Darcy Lewis wasn't a true life at all, that she spent so much of it hiding, so much of it being, well, not herself. That this here, now, is more of a life than her years at Culver ever was, and that for the first time, she is letting herself build connections. 

(She's letting herself fall in love. But that is not yet something she can share. Even with herself.)

 

 

 

She tells Jane about her and Phil over a late lunch in Jane's apartment. And while she can see that Jane is happy for her, she can also see the slight sadness and longing hiding behind her eyes. Darcy knows Jane has been trying to date again, that she is trying to move on from something that essentially was two days out of their lives, but Darcy also knows that it isn't easy. She knows that Jane craves what she had within her grasp, for then to loose, and Darcy knows that even if Thor did come back there would be a lot of work to do to make it possible again. And so much of the life Darcy is leading now began during those two days, and she understand the trials Jane is going through. Somewhat anyway, in reality their struggles are different and their goals different, but their dreams are the same; somewhere safe to call their own. 

When she leaves she hugs Jane and she thinks that one day, maybe one day soon, she will tell Jane everything. But she is not yet sure how Jane would take it, and the one thing Darcy is sure about is that she can't loose Jane. So she keeps quiet, and bides her time. 

 

 

 

"Clint has been compromised." Phil's voice is calm, but she knows he is anything but on the inside. 

"What happened?" 

"I don't have all the details yet, but something bad happened at the test site." He sits down in his desk chair. "Something really bad." 

"Does Natasha know?" 

"I'm going to call her now." His face looks so tired, and she doesn't say anything else, just walks over to him and hugs him. He relaxes into her embrace, she is getting better at physical contact. Then she pulls away, placing a kiss on the top of his head, before she leaves him to his phone call. 

 

 

 

"Agent Coulson is down." 

That is what she hears when passing by the lower lever control room on her way to her station. And she staggers, for a moment she can't control her body and it's _scary_. But not so scary as the continued chatter from the room, not as scary as the feeling of loss, not as scary as the way her heart is hammering in her chest. 

So she runs, and she doesn't think about the way her heart is bleeding, even as it's trying to tell her something important.

She runs until she see Fury, until the only person who she knows will know the truth is standing in front of her. 

"Fury!" Her voice echoes across the deck. "What the fuck happened?" 

"Agent Lewis, this is not the time nor place." He lifts his hand to the Avengers standing around the room looking at her. And yeah, she would probably be in full fan girl mood at any other time, dragging out her favorite Phil and Captain America stories, but this isn't _important_ , they aren't important, not anymore.

"Nick." She shouldn't be surprised about how needy her voice sounds, but she is. He just looks at her for a long second and nods. "My office." 

She stalks into it in front of him, manages to stay still until he's closed the door, because yes, she's upset, but she's not about to disappoint Phil now by being any more out of control. 

"I overheard someone say he was dead." she turns around to face him and doesn't like the pity in his eyes. "Tell me the truth."

"He's not dead." 

She almost sags in relief, shoulders hunching forward and a rushed breath escaping her. "Of course he isn't. I won't allow him to die on me." is what she says, covering over her blatant relief and the realization she has come to in the last fifteen minutes with her usual brand of carelessness. Director Fury looks like he knows exactly what's going on, but he lets her have it, and she's glad.

"He is however badly hurt. The doctor's think he will make it at this point, but we won't know for sure before 48 hours have passed." 

"Where is he?"

Director Fury settles behind his desk before looking at her. "Agent Lewis, there is a few things you must know before you get that piece of information." His voice has made a minute change and she knows that whatever leeway she might have had is gone now. She sits down across from him, she will do whatever it takes to make this go quicker so she can get the information she needs. 

"The rumor of Coulson's death spread because of a need for him to be dead. The only people who know the truth are the people in this room and his doctors. It is highly classified information, that you are not allowed to share with anyone until I say so. Is that understood Agent Lewis?"

"Yes, sir." The secrecy is not a problem for her, she knows that Natasha will realize something the moment she sees Darcy, and frankly the rest of them is not her problem. She's kept bigger secrets before, this will just add to the pile.

"Good. He is in medical bay 4, please report to Hill in 1 hour for a full briefing on the current situation."

She nods and gets up. She had expected to have to work hard on getting time to sneak away to medical, so she will take this hour and then work harder than anything to save the world Phil loved after. Which is probably exactly why Fury gave her time off without questions. With one hand on the door she turns to him.

"You are going to have some angry Superheros on your hands sir."

"Don't you think I fucking know that Lewis? Now get the hell out of my office."

That seems like the most prudent action so she does. All she wants to do is run down to medical as fast as she can, but that is not an option right now, because she has six Avengers staring at her. Natasha is watching her closely, Darcy is guessing she's looking for signs that she is about to collapse and feels oddly touched by that. So she gives her a small, but real smile to signal that everything is okay. Natasha's stance changes and relaxes into something Darcy knows to be relief. As Darcy had hoped; Natasha knows that if Darcy is smiling right now, then Phil isn't dead. She might not know how, she might not know why, but she must trust Darcy's judgement enough for it not to matter. At least for the moment - she is sure Natasha will manage to raise hell later.

"Lady Darcy of the Lightning rod!" Thor bellows and interrupt her thoughts. "It is wondrous to be in your presence again."

"Hi, big guy." she says with a smile she knows is tight around the edges, and then she is surrounded by his arms as he sweeps her up into a big hug. She tense slightly, this is _Thor_ , intellectually she knows he won't hurt her, but she still doesn't like physical contact when it's unexpected. "Good to see you too." She pats his shoulder carefully. "But please put me down now." her voice is strained. He does and they both face the rest. 

"If no one else is going to ask, I..." the man in the goatee starts, but Darcy interrupts him. She is not going to be able to answer their questions, deflection seems like the better option.

"Mr Stark, I presume. Nice to make your acquaintance." She glances around at the rest. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters I need to attend to. Gentlemen, Tasha." She says as she leaves with a wave. 

 

 

 

 

The battle was over, Phil was out of surgery and Darcy was sitting in a chair by his bed. The chair was uncomfortable, her skin felt like it was stretched too tight, her muscles sore and she knew she needed a shower. But she had no intention of leaving Phil alone. Not now, if she closed her eyes she could still see him when she had first come down, his face pale and lifeless, the doctors working so frantically she thought that even they didn't have any hope. She was afraid that is she left he would leave her.

"Agent Lewis." 

Director Fury stepped into the room and she forced herself to stand up. 

"Sir." He gave her a tired wave to sit down, and she sank gratefully into the chair again. Fury stood at the end of the bed, placed his hand carefully on top of the covers and looked down. They were both silent for a while, and Darcy used the opportunity to study him. 

"He told me about you." Fury says, breaking the silence. It's a loaded statement, and Darcy's mind is reeling. It can mean so many things, and she wants to panic, but instead she falls back on her instincts: stay quiet and let the silence speak for itself, someone else will always fill it for you. 

"Not in so many words, but when you've known him as long as I have you learn to read between the lines." Fury says. "He really likes you." 

She lets the silence stretch for a bit longer, before she realizes that she owes this man something, that he, just as her, is waiting. "I really like him too." is what she says, which is true. But it's not _the truth_ as she now knows it: she loves Phil Coulson and it took thinking he was dead for her to realize that. 

Fury nods. "You should go Agent Lewis. Have a shower, get some rest." 

She opens her mouth to for a protest, but he cuts her off. "I will stay with him until you get back." 

So she leaves, sparing one glance back to see Fury sinking into the chair she just vacated, one hand still resting on the bed next to Phil's hand. 

 

 

 

"We are getting married." She says, voice muffled against Phil's neck. It's three days later, and he has finally woken up. After the doctor gave his okay, she had crawled right up next to him, craving the physical contact she had believed she didn't need anymore. She hasn't cried yet, and she doesn't want to start now. 

"Do I get a say in this?" He asks, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

"No."

"May I ask the reasons for this sudden wish for matrimony?"

"If anything like this happens ever again I want to be able to get into your hospital room without going through Fury."

She buries her face even further into his neck, breathing in the smell of _Phil_ and places a kiss on his skin. 

"And because I love you." her voice is quiet and brittle, but she knows he heard her by the way his hand tighten on her back. He slips his hand up to the back of her neck and guides her head until they are face to face. His eyes are soft and holds so much emotion that she almost cries after all, but she just leans in until their foreheads are touching and waits.

"Yes." He whispers finally. "My answer to your proposal is yes." Sliding his hand into her hair he leans in and kisses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the road for this story, but I have a few more idea's for stories in this universe. I have not started writing them yet, so it's not going to be soon (I think). I've added the story to a series, feel free to subscribe to that if you want possible updates in this 'verse. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
